


Christmas 1942

by CoffeeJay, KAi_Sage



Series: Flowers [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas, FACE Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Presents, They needed a break ok, War, let them be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeJay/pseuds/CoffeeJay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAi_Sage/pseuds/KAi_Sage
Summary: After returning from the rough battle on the island, America, Canada, France, and England take a well-deserved break and spend some time together as a family to celebrate the holidays.





	Christmas 1942

**Author's Note:**

> I finished it in time for Christmas! Merry Christmas readers, this is my present for you. This chapter takes place after they all leave the island, at the same time as the chapters Spare Pajamas, Rest, and Gifts in the main story. Sorry the FACE family Christmas is a little more condensed, haha.   
> ~Kai

Canada unlocked the front door to his house as America bounced eagerly on his heels, ready to launch into a Christmas decorating frenzy. He knew his house was going to need it, as when they entered the house, a musty smell greeted them. Canada hadn’t thought the trip to the island would take as long as it had, and therefore hadn’t thought to ask someone to keep the house for him while he was gone. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust with the place having sat empty and uncared-for over the past week. Canada clicked his tongue. He really needed to clean before more company arrived--and his brother, he decided, didn’t count.  
“Bro, how could you not even have a tree up yet? Even when we left it was close to Christmas,” America exclaimed, noting the clear absence of a Christmas tree, or any other decorations for that matter.  
“I’ve been a bit busy ever since the stunt Japan pulled at the beginning of the month. War declarations and paperwork are time-consuming things, you know,” Canada retorted. If he had blinked, he would have missed how America’s expression soured, and he instantly regretted bringing up the topic--but America quickly brought back his wide grin.  
“Whatever, man, I’ll just go and cut down a tree real quick. Be right back!” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran out the back door before Canada could stop him or offer assistance. Instead, Canada just sighed and went searching for his cleaning supplies.  
The place was significantly cleaner and fresher-smelling by the time America returned, dragging a fully-grown pine tree behind him with ease. He struggled to fit it through the door, causing showers of pine needles to fall to the floor as the branches scraped passed the door frame. Eventually, however, the tree was propped upright in a corner of the room.   
“Ta-da!” America exclaimed, presenting his work. Canada observed the pine tree that now stood in his home. It was a bit too tall, with the top branches bending against the ceiling, and the needles looked slightly wild and ruffled due to the battle with the door frame that had resulted in needles littering the freshly-cleaned floors. He smiled and shook his head fondly. It was perfect.  
“It looks great, America,” said Canada. “I have some ornaments and lights in the basement, along with some other decorations. Could you help me bring them up here?”  
America agreed that he could, and several hours and debates about the appropriate amount of tinsel later, Canada’s house had transformed into a Christmas wonderland with a fully decorated tree, tinsel around the banisters, and select Christmas-themed knick-knacks occupying any flat surface America could find. It was a bit much, but after everything they’d been through recently, it only seemed fair to indulge in the well-deserved break. As the brothers stood admiring their handiwork, America was the first to break the silence.  
“Hey, I need to run home really quick and grab a few things. Change of clothes, presents, the like,” he said, gesturing towards the door.  
“Of course,” Canada replied. “I need to go to the market and pick up some more food anyway.”  
America’s walk back to his house was short and pleasant, if not a little cold. He hurriedly entered the house, shutting the door behind him quickly to prevent the cold from following him inside. The bedroom was his first destination, where he grabbed a bag and threw in his warmest pair of pajamas and a change of clothes he had no intention of using the next day if he could help it. He shut the dresser and moved on to the closet where he had stored the presents he had bought for everyone.  
It was a good thing he had gone shopping way ahead of time. Like, November ahead of time. He couldn’t help that he got so excited about the prospect of Christmas and gift giving. He scooped up the presents for his family, noticing a smaller package in the back of the closet. That gave him pause. He couldn’t recall having bought more than one present per family member. America stooped down to read the tag on the present.   
“To my best friend Japan,” his own handwriting stared at him.  
Something twisted in his gut as he remembered. He didn’t normally buy presents for people outside of his family. Relations were constantly changing among nations, and it made it hard to determine when such actions were viewed as appropriate. However, he had seen a new game that had been released in his country that he had thought Japan would really like to try, and their relationship had gotten so much closer that he had bought the game because Japan had come to be a good friend of his, at least from America’s point of view. After everything that had happened, though, it was now clear that Japan didn’t think the same.  
With a sour taste in his mouth, America kicked the small package into the corner of the closet and shut the door with a little more force than necessary. He shook his head as he hurried to finish collecting everything he wanted to bring to Canada’s place. He didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. It was Christmas, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it if it was the last thing he did.   
Satisfied with the duffle bag he had filled, he exited the house and returned to his brother’s place. Canada had already returned from his grocery trip and was in the process of placing his own presents under the tree.   
“No snooping,” was Canada’s first response upon seeing America step into the room. “I swear I’ll return it if you so much as touch it.”  
“Oof, that’s harsh, man,” America whined.  
“Not with your track record, it’s not. I want it to actually be a surprise when you open it. You’re too good at guessing,” Canada retorted.  
“Fine, fine,” he resigned, sliding his own presents under the tree and promptly flinging himself onto the couch in a theatrical demonstration of staying away from his present. “I promise I will not snoop this Christmas,” he stated as he held up a hand and crossed his heart with the other.  
Canada chuckled. “You’re such a drama queen.”  
“It runs in the family.”  
“Can’t argue with that.”  
“Oh my gosh, that reminds me of that time England tried to cut France’s hair,” America snorted.  
“I can’t believe I almost forgot about that! France wouldn’t let England within a five foot radius of him for a month,” Canada laughed at the memory. One anecdote lead to another, and the laughter grew warmer as the day grew later. After dinner, they sat together in amiable silence, enjoying the time away from the stresses of war. Canada was the first to retire.   
“It’s an early day tomorrow. Try not to sleep in too much,” he said as he got up from his seat. “You know where the guest room is, so feel free to use it when you’re ready.”   
“Yep,” America said, his gaze wandering over to the Christmas tree.  
“No snooping while I’m gone, I mean it. Goodnight, Al.”  
“Yes sir,” America huffed. “‘Night, Mattie.” It wasn’t much longer before America also called it a night, but not before he snuck under the tree to shake his present. He walked back to his room smiling about the new pocket knife Canada had bought him.  
***  
The next day, Canada was awakened by the smell of coffee and pancakes wafting through the house. It took him a few seconds to remember that he had his brother as a guest in his house, and a few more moments to realize that as the host, he should have been up first. He checked his clock thinking that he might have accidentally overslept, but saw that it was still early in the morning. America would normally still be sleeping at this hour. Confused, Canada emerged from his room to find his brother in the kitchen sipping his own mug of coffee as he watched the pancakes sizzle in the pan.   
“Alfred? What are you doing up so early?” Canada asked.  
America turned around, his face lighting up as he saw Canada. “Yes! My plan worked!” he cried in glee.  
“What are you talking about? What plan?” Canada questioned with a bemused stare.   
“I knew that if I got up before you and started cooking, I could get you to leave your room without changing out of your pajamas,” he explained, gesturing to Canada.   
Canada looked down at his clothes, confirming that he had indeed neglected to change before exiting his room. He looked back at America and asked, “What does that have to do with anything?” It was too early to try to understand the workings of America’s mind.  
“Come on man, it’s Christmas! I refuse to change out of my pajamas, but I know that England is going to come wearing stiff formal clothes, and France looks good in anything he wears, so I needed someone on my side to wear pajamas all day with me. So it was crucial to my plan to prevent you from changing early in order to persuade you to the side of justice,” America finished, detailing his plot with a dramatic flourish.  
Canada snorted, amused by his brother’s choice of words. “Well, I did have a nice sweater picked out…” he started. He watched as America’s face transformed into one of mock betrayal before he continued. “But I guess I could stay in my pajamas in honor of Christmas and… justice,” he chuckled.   
“Woo hoo!” America cheered as he did a lap around the kitchen. “A Christmas miracle!”  
The two dissolved into laughter until a burning smell interrupted the celebration. “Alfred, the pancakes!” The two scrambled to turn off the stove and remove the sizzling mix from the burner. Once everything was clear, they stared blankly at the sorry excuse for pancakes before looking back to each other and breaking back into fits of laughter.  
A proper breakfast had been eaten and the kitchen had been cleaned by the time the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” America chimed, sliding over to the front door on his socks.   
“America, be careful,” Canada chided, drying the last of the dishes. America opened the door to reveal France and England standing on the stoop, each carrying a small bag of presents, and France holding a covered platter of pastries. A burst of greetings flowed in with the cold air as the two entered the house.  
“Hey guys, Merry Christmas!” America welcomed them as they began to place objects down and shed their outer layers.  
“Yes, Merry Christmas,” replied England.  
“Merry Christmas, Alfred. Matthew!” France called as Canada came into the entryway. He swooped both brothers into a firm hug and planted a kiss on their cheeks. “This is lovely, having a break from it all. Oh, and it’s not Christmas without my famous pastries. I stayed up late to make these fresh,” he said, releasing the boys in favor of grabbing his platter again, presenting it to the group.  
“Sweet!” America expressed his delight, enthusiastically taking the tray into his hands. “You’re the best!”  
“Thanks Francis, but you didn’t have to put in all that extra work,” Canada fretted. “After all, this is supposed to be a relaxing break.”  
“Don’t worry, mon cher, I did it because I wanted to,” France reassured him with a smile.  
“Yes, yes, we all love your cooking, Francis,” England stated, “but let’s get out of the entryway, shall we?”  
“Oh, of course! Come on inside,” said Canada, ushering the group back to the living room where the Christmas tree shined in all of its glory.   
“The decorations look great,” England remarked, taking in the wonderland that Canada and America had set up meticulously the night before. The boys beamed at the compliment.  
“I agree,” France added. “The house looks great, but does someone want to explain to me why you two are still in your pajamas?”  
“According to Alfred, it’s for freedom and justice,” Canada snickered, elbowing America in the side.  
America pushed his brother back teasingly. “Well it is!”  
The two older nations shared a knowing look. “Freedom and justice,” England laughed. “Those aren't things you can wrap up and put in a box, now are they?”  
“Oh, the presents!” America declared, dashing under the tree. “I bet I can guess what you got me!”  
“Hold your horses, Alfred,” Canada called as he chased after his brother. “We’re taking turns.”   
With Canada mediating, the group managed to sort out their gifts and began the tradition of announcing the giver, opening the gifts, presenting the present, and giving thanks. Playful chatter arose as gifts were unwrapped, and a small scandal was revealed after America’s poor acting failed to hide the fact that he had snooped and guessed his presents beforehand. All was forgiven in favor of eating some of France’s signature pastries. The whirlwind of conversation and wrapping paper calmed down after the gifts were all given and the mouths were filled with sweets. In the lull, America thought back to the single present he had left behind in the closet.  
“I wonder what those Axis jerks are up to right now,” he wondered aloud.  
Canada immediately bristled at the mention of the enemy, while England and France likewise tensed. “Who cares?” Canada huffed. “They probably don’t even celebrate Christmas. Maybe they’re too busy making war plans or something.”  
“I can’t believe they got away,” America pouted. “Would have made our lives a whole lot easier with them out of the picture.”  
“Well, if I ever see them again, I’ll make sure to give them what they deserve,” Canada seethed.  
“Come now, shouldn’t we be enjoying our time together and forgetting about these things?” France tried to keep the peace.  
“It’s kind of hard to forget about how the Axis made a miraculous escape while being held captive by all six of us,” Canada muttered.  
“Yeah, I wonder how they managed that,” America agreed.  
This time, it was England that attempted to sever that line of thought. “I agree with Francis. We really shouldn’t talk about these sorts of things at Christmas.”  
Something about the nervous undertones and the eagerness in their voices made America and Canada more than a little suspicious. The two of them shared a questioning glance, but before either of them could say anything, France hurriedly changed the subject and started up a new conversation. The two brothers silently agreed that while the others’ behavior was strange, they did have a point that today was not the day to bring up unpleasant topics.   
As per France’s advice, the war was forgotten, and the festivities continued unhindered. The four of them fully enjoyed each other’s company as they shared stories, a good meal, hot chocolate, and some family game time. Just for the day, they could set aside their titles as nations, and pretend to be people for a while. However, responsibility crept back on them as the day drew to a close. They gathered once more in the entryway to say their farewells.  
“I had a wonderful time,” France said as he swept both boys back into a hug again. “Thank you, Matthew, for inviting us all to your home.”   
“I’m just happy that everyone could make it,” Canada replied. “I hope we can do something like this next year.”  
“Of course!” England assured him. “Regardless of whether or not the war is still going on, we’ll always make time for each other.”  
“Hey, Al,” Canada turned to face him. “Maybe we could do this at your place next year.”  
America smiled back at him and ruffled his hair affectionately. “That’s a promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh how the turntables! This time, I took Jay's role of writing everything while she took my usual role of helping brainstorm, motivating me, helping when I was stuck, and beta-reading, as well as writing the title for this work. We both agreed that it was fun to switch things up a bit. Fluff is not my area of expertise so this was hard for me, but I promised I would work this out. Our styles are very different, but I hope you still enjoyed this little Christmas fluff break!  
> ~Kai


End file.
